


Advent

by womanwolfwitch



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Backstory, Flashbacks, Honestly it's kinda smutty and kinda melodramatic, M/M, Probably Not Canon Compliant at Some Point, Scott and Cora are Bros, Scott's Dad Was a Dick, and i love it like the bad space opera bodice ripper that it is, kinda angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 09:27:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11354616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/womanwolfwitch/pseuds/womanwolfwitch
Summary: Advent. Scott had been too busy worrying about keeping his crew alive and trying to find a home for his people to give the Exile colony much thought. Now that the looming threat of the Kett have been relegated to the backburner and humanity is happily settled on Meridian the Exile colony has popped up again and issued an invitation that Scott doesn't think he can refuse. But questions about the Exile's intentions linger and he can't help but wonder: What is Reyes's role in all of this? And why is the Benefactor back in play? And is Scott really the right person for the job of Pathfinder after all?





	Advent

“Is it love?”

.

.

.

Scott looked up.

From the shadows Cora shifted minutely and for someone with her training it was as big a tell as if she had actually said something. But even Scott didn’t need for her to point out the obvious here. Everything before had just been political theater, this conversation with Bradley was the meat of the thing.

“Love?” For a moment Bradley’s face softens and Scott sees what he hopes it sympathy, but might just be pity, settled in his eyes. He lets his gaze drift and catches Cora’s eyes, steady, as she dips her head in encouragement. Five days ago, the answer to Bradley’s question would have been simple, easy. _Yes. Maybe. Not yet, but it could be._

“I don’t know any more.” It’s not the answer Bradley wants and he sighs long and loud. They finish their drinks in the blue glow from the various screens that clutter his office. Night cycle has fallen on the station in a purple-black hush and in the subdued hush it’s easy for Scott to pretend for just a moment longer that this is nothing more than drinks between two friends or colleagues.

“We’re going to have to replace you as the face of the human Pathfinder.” To his credit, Bradley meets his eyes as he says it. And although his words are harsh his voice and eyes are kind. He keeps talking and for a few moments Scott can’t hear him past the rushing in his ears, can only concentrate one the drop of his stomach to his feet and the voice of a ghost saying _That’s not goddamn good enough. Why can’t you man up and move on like you’re supposed to?_

“Scott?” Cora’s hand squeezes his shoulder and some of the tension bleeds out of him. He’s not back in the Milky Way, his dad is dead, but Scott isn’t.

“So, what happens now?” His voice is steady and for a moment Bradley just stares at him. Weighing and measuring Scott against some unknowable internal scale of right and wrong, public versus private, duty versus feeling. Scott wonders where he falls on it, what impression he’s managed to make on the man he named Ambassador. He’d tried so hard before Kadara and Reyes to be serious, professional, the kind of soldier the Alliance and his dad trained him to be. Beyond reproach. And he’d failed again, spectacularly.

“I’ve already spoken about this to Liam.” The words are like blows but Scott doesn’t feel them, lets them sink in and bruise for later. “He’s agreed to enter the Pathfinder program.”

“Liam.” Scott forces himself to ignore Cora’s sharp intake of breath, the tightening of her fingers on his shoulder. “He’s a good guy. He’ll make a good Pathfinder.” And it’s true, despite everything, despite the way their friendship had fallen apart. Liam’s moral compass wasn’t broken like Scott’s, it always pointed true North. And even though he’d disagreed with Ryder, fought against him what feltlike every step off the way since this whole debacle started, he’d still stood by him when it counted. A little seasoning with a command of his own and Scott’s words would ring true: Liam would make an excellent Pathfinder.

Bradley grunts his agreement, “He’s already got some ideas for building up a rescue or emergency services program of some kind. He won’t be you but he doesn’t need to be.” There’s a long pause as if Bradley is searching for whatever he wants to say next. “This isn’t me firing you, Scott.”

“Really?” Scott can’t help the wry turn of his mouth, that slight lilt of sarcasm that colors his tone. “Cause that’s sure what it feels like.”

Bradley just sighs again and looks down into his glass like he wishes there was somehow more drink in there. “The point isn’t what it feels like, the point is what it looks like. Until this whole Advent debacle blows over you’re too much of a liability to keep in the spotlight. Liam’s exactly the kind of man I need representing us if we have any hopes of rebuilding some goodwill with the public. Let Kosta take the front for a while and you keep doing what needs doing. The Tempest and whatever crew that want to stay signed on still have a job to do. The Kett are still out there and while Kosta might be a fair shot he’s not a soldier, not a tactician, and not the man I want on the front lines gathering information and organizing our resistance.”

It’s a good deal. Better than anything Scott thought he’d get once he’d brought them the information from Reyes about Advent and the Benefactor and Jien Garson’s death. Still, after Advent what Bradley’s asking him rubs Scott the wrong way. Blood had been spilled. Initiative blood. Innocent blood. He wasn’t sure how to process that. Wasn’t sure he had it in him to go through this a second time. “I’m not a soldier anymore. Haven’t been that in about 600 odd years.” 

“Don’t bullshit me, son.” All pretense of geniality is gone now. Bradley stands, drink forgotten, and stares at Scott until he feels the urge to squirm. “I’ve seen your file, Scott. All of it. You were an N7 candidate at one point. Received a god damn freaking commendation from Hackett himself. And I heard enough gossip even back then to know he and your father weren’t exactly friends, so nepotism wasn’t a factor.”

Scott flushes with anger and embarrassment and shame. “If you read my file than you should also know that I couldn’t hack it. I spent the rest of my career as a relay guard.”

“I’m aware of that too.” For a moment, Bradley looks like he wants to keep arguing but he must see something in Scott’s face because the fight goes out of him all at once. “All I’m saying, Pathfinder. Is that the job is still yours if you want it. I’ve no intention of pulling you out of the field, you’re too valuable an asset to let go to waste, we just need to get you out of the public eye while this whole Advent mess dies down. And it will die down, Scott. What happened on Eos wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known how it would all turn out.”

Bradley makes his way around the desk as if to leave before pausing once more and this time it’s his hand that’s squeezing Scott’s shoulder. When Scott turns to look at him though, Bradley’s eyes are averted, his face stony. “I’ve never been much for religion. I respect it but well… My mother though, religion and tradition were the structures she built her life around so I may not believe but I understand why people do, the comfort and joy it can bring. The way it can help a body build a life.” Whatever Bradley was remembering his face was far away, voice hushed and strangely unsure for a man who’d always seemed like he knew exactly what he was doing. “Love’s the same way, Scott. There isn’t anyone left to tell you this and maybe you think you’re too old or stubborn to need to hear it but I think you’re wrong. Love can be just as strong a foundation as tradition, as religion. With the right person, it can be your comfort and your joy. It can be the thing you build a life around. And at the end of the day that’s what we’re here in Andromeda to do: build lives. Doesn’t matter what anybody else has to say, what anybody else feels. You find that kind of love, the kind that looks at you and knows you and still wants to stay? You keep it. Everything else will work its own way out.”

With that, Bradley left, his final words almost muffled by the sound of the doors sliding closed.

“She’ll be waiting for you on the Docking Bay at 0800 hours if you decide you’ve got another fight in you.” 

 

_8 months ago_

For a long moment after the bullet hits Sloane Kelley right between the eyes there’s nothing but silence. Scott finds himself hyper aware of the smell of copper from her blood in the air mixing with the scent ozone from the rifle that was fired. _Shit_ , he thinks to himself a little hysterically, _holy shit_. He’s seen death before and Sloane Kelley was no saint but that doesn’t mean that what just happened, what he allowed to happen, sits easily on his shoulders. A small billow of dust floats in as the wind picks up outside the cave and he can hear Vetra and Peebee shuffle nervously outside the entrance. Scott can hear his own heart beating in his ears, can feel the tremor he never really got rid of making its way through his arm. He doesn’t think anyone else notices but he can’t be sure.

He very carefully doesn’t look at Reyes.

“Get her out of here. Prepare the crew. Kadara Port is ours tonight.” The sound of Reyes snapping out orders brings Scott out of his funk and now there’s something unpleasant sitting in his stomach, something that feels like cold fury and betrayal. Reyes is already turning to walk away.

“Hey. Hey!” Scott’s got a hand on Reyes’s shoulder and is pulling him around to face him before he can think better of it. All around him he’s aware of the sound of Collective members around him raising their weapons, the sounds of safeties being released as they watch impassively. Reyes’s face is carefully blank as well but he only hesitates for a moment before making some kind of hand gesture that sends his crew scurrying out into the bright Kadara light, Sloane Kelley’s body hanging between them as if they were carrying a rug. Scott waits until they’re alone. “You lied to me.”

“I lie to everyone.” Reyes’s response is automatic and Scott feels himself recoil, his hand slipping off Reyes’s shoulder.

“Whatever.” Scott’s face burns and he can’t help but remember that night at the party, the quiet conversation as they passed the bottle back and forth, the way he’d watched Reyes’s mouth every time he took a drink and wondered when he’d feel it against his own again. He was stupid. So, so stupid to think that one kiss and a little flirting meant that Reyes was as interested in him as he was in the smuggler. Rookie mistake. He can’t do this right now, outside Peebee and Vetra are waiting, the Archon is waiting. Without another word he pushes pass Reyes, ignoring the dark look that flickers behind the other man’s eyes.

“Ryder.” Reyes’s voice chases him a few steps before Reyes himself steps in front of the Pathfinder. This time it’s Reyes’s arm on his, Reyes eyes pleading with him to listen. The impassive look on his face is gone, replaced by something else Scott is too afraid to try and define. “I didn’t enjoy it.”

“Right, does it matter? You got everything you wanted.”

Reyes let out a short laugh and takes a step closer. Even through his armor Scott thinks he can feel the heat of him like he was in civvies. “Ryder,” Reyes’s voice is low, soothing, and draws Scott in like a moth to a flame. “What I want is peace. In time Sloane would have brought war to the Nexus and the Angara. That kind of protracted Civil War is not something any of our peoples has the numbers to survive.”

“So you say. Why didn’t you trust me?” It’s the question that’s been burning in the back of his throat since Reyes stepped out of the shadows of that outcrop and shattered what little Scott thought he knew about him. He can ignore a lot of things but he can’t let this go. Without trust he can never have anything with Reyes beyond that one night and a handful of stolen kisses. The fact that he wants more with Reyes, with a man like Reyes, is something he knows should give him pause but it doesn’t. Maybe if he was someone else, someone as good and perfect as Tann and the others seem so intent on making him. In a lot of ways, Reyes feels like the first person he’s met since he’s woken up who’s looked at Scott and just seen him, scars and all, and not just the Pathfinder. And he wants that, wants this, with a surety which is surprising and just strong enough that he knows he’s going to follow this through. Just this once in his life, Scott’s not going to let who he’s supposed to be stand in the way of what he actually wants.

“Scott.” Another step forward and Reyes is close enough that Scott has to tilt his head up slightly to meet his eyes. Sometime after the shooting Reyes had removed his gloves when Scott wasn’t looking and now he carefully places one hand against the side of Scott’s jaw, making his breath hitch as his thumb swipes gently down the planes of his cheek. “I liked the way you looked at me. I was afraid that would change.”

Reyes’s voice is soft and there it is again, that moment of vulnerability that Scott remembers from the night of Sloane’s party when they’d spent hours sitting on the crates and just talking. Scott relaxed. This he understood.

Had his opinion of Reyes changed? Scott didn’t think so. Carefully, he took a step forward, feet bumping up against the smuggler’s. His nerves are lit up just from that one brief touch on his face, heart fluttering like a hummingbird in his veins. It’s not Reyes’s actions that bother him, he had a fair idea of what kind of man he was well before this had started. Reyes might have painted himself as the bad buy with a heart of gold at first, but he’d never denied the fact that he was a bad guy. And in this brave new world on the outskirts of Andromeda Scott doesn’t really feel like he has the right to pass judgement. Scott’s a soldier and he’s seen and done his fair share of terrible things to survive. Right or wrong just depended on who was calling the shots and who was left standing at the end of it. There’s a part of him, nice and logical, that tells Scott he should turn around a leave. That even if what he’s feeling with Reyes is real, this can only lead to trouble. But the rest of him? The rest of him wants just one damn them thing for himself. “Nothing’s changed.”

Reyes’s chuckle makes him shiver. His mouth is so close that Scott can feel the words he whispers into Scott’s ear. “You have bad taste in men.” And then he’s pushing forward quickly so that Scott only has a few moments to realize what’s happening before the cave wall is at his back. He barely registers it because Reyes’s hands are in his hair, mouth parting his lips in the kind of kiss designed to make his mind go blank.

“The worst.” Scott manages to agree when they break for air and the wicked smile that follows makes him shiver. Reyes’s mouth is back on his, sure and steady and Scott feels himself falling despite the solid cave wall at his back. His world spinning until Reyes, Reyes, Reyes is the only thought passing through his brain.

It doesn’t take long for his armor to become unbearably tight and Scott whines as Reyes’s hands begin unlocking the clasps on it. This is a bad idea, he knows it, but it’s just one more in a suddenly long line of those and he finds that he doesn’t care as his chest piece hits the cave floor with a thud, his vambraces and gloves following quickly. Scott doesn’t wait, his hands fisting in the thick material of Reyes’s own clothing as he dives in for another searing kiss. He smooths his hand over broad shoulders, coiled muscles and then shoves, breaking the kiss so that he can slide the jacket off Reyes’s arms, can watch his fingers fumble one layer after another off until his hands meet warm skin. It’s the first time he’s seen this much of the other man and he takes his time, lets his hands travel gentle over the pinkened scar tissue of a gun wound on his shoulder before tweaking a nipple to draw a groan out of him. It’s a good sound and Scott chases it with his mouth, tongue teasing first one nipple and then the other while his hands smooth down the trail of hair before stopping on Reyes’s buckle. He sighs, lets his tongue tease a trail down the sparse patch of hair leading down. Above him Reyes draws in a shaky breath and Scott only has the chance to plant one final kiss to his sternum before Reyes’s fingers are in his hair tugging him up and into an open-mouthed kiss.

“My turn.” Reyes’s teeth gently graze the side of Scott’s neck before he pulls back, hands searching for and then finding the zipper on his undersuit. Reyes’s eyes are dark as he pulls the suit down and carefully helps peel Scott out of it before letting it hang at his waist. Scott shivers in the too hot cave, caught in Reyes’s gaze while the man surveys him carefully. It’s the first time Scott’s been this exposed to the gaze of a stranger in years. He’s aware of his own scars, the last few years of his service might have been unremarkable but that didn’t mean that the rest were and they left their marks on him. He watches Reyes carefully, taking in the way the other man’s eyes darken as he trails a hand carefully down the tanned skin on Scott’s chest, his tongue darting out in an unconscious swipe.

When Reyes’s eyes return to his face his eyes are dark, hot and hungry, and its almost more anticipation than he can stand. He must say something, make some sort of sound because Reyes smirks before purring “not yet” before he begins to slowly remove the lower half of Scott’s armor.

He can’t help himself, Scott’s eyes flutter close and Reyes’s fingers brush against him again and again as piece by piece his armor falls away until he’s left half covered in his undersuit and shivering. The sound of a belt buckle being undone brings Scott back to himself and he watches as Reyes carefully pulls himself out, hands sliding down his cock in one long stroke before squeezing the base and drawing out a low moan. Scott whines in response, feels himself throbbing in response to the picture in front of him. His own hands ache to touch. It’s almost more than he can stand and Scott finds himself impatient with it. He wants to take Reyes in his own hand and feel the weight of him, wants to sink to his knees and taste.

Slowly, carefully, Reyes presses forward so that Scott can feel the hot line of his skin against every part of him. He’s shaking now, trembling against Reyes skin as his own cock is pulled loose and nestles against Reyes’s hardness. Carefully, Reyes rolls his hips, lips parted, eyes on Scott as his hands scrabble for purchase along Reyes’s hips and he responds in kind. Another roll turns into a loose rhythm, sweat and pre-come easing the way just barely. They can’t keep this up for too long but the idea of stopping is one his body is telling him is unacceptable. Reyes must come to the same conclusion because he stops and licks a thick stripe down his hand before gathering them up together and beginning to stroke them together.

Reyes, Scott thinks hysterically as the other man twists his hand around the head of his cock, is a goddamn genius. He’s moving faster now, hands setting up a frantic pace as he buries his head against Scott’s neck. It’s all Scott can do to cling on for the ride, hands scratching down Reyes’s back as his movements turn jerky and uncoordinated. Distantly, he’s aware of the slick obscene sound of their flesh moving together. He feels himself groan and Reyes’s voice answer with a murmur of sweet nothings as he presses kiss after kiss against Scott’s ear, the dip of his neck, the planes of his chest, before he finds Scott’s mouth one more time. Heat spools deep in Scott’s stomach as he feels himself getting closer and closer to the edge. Three more strokes and he’s coming, pleasure rolling through him in a wave that leaves him boneless, Reyes’s name in his mouth as the other man strokes him through it and then stills.

It takes a long moment for Scott to come back to himself and when he does he’s aware of the press of Reyes’s insistent hardness against his stomach. His shallow grunts as he slides sloppily through the mess of come and sweat decorating them both. Carefully, only halfway certain that his limbs can even move, Scott pushes away from the wall and turns them so that Reyes is pressed against the cave instead.

“My turn,” Scott says, his voice gone to gravel as he finally gives in his desire to take Reyes in hand before sinking to his knees. He takes his time about it, wanting to make it last, to make it good enough that Reyes won’t be able to forget him once he leaves port. He presses a soft kiss against one hipbone and then another, hands peeling Reyes’s pants down so that Scott can get a grip on his ass. He squeezes and Reyes let’s out a little laugh, head tipped back and eyes half closed as he watches Scott.

“Enjoying the merchandise?”

“So far, so good.” Carefully, he strokes his hand experimentally along Reyes’s cock. Trying to remember the movements the other man had used when he’d had both of them before. He manages to build up a slow rhythm that leaves Reyes panting, hips pushing futilely against the air as he struggles to get Scott to go faster, harder, but Scott ignores him. Not ready yet to let this end. He still wants a taste. Tentatively, he leaned forward and let his tongue draw a path from root to tip. The sound Reyes makes in exchange is compelling enough that he does it again before hesitantly taking the tip into his mouth and sucking. There’s a moment of hesitation that he can’t quite help, it had been a long while since he’d done this even before going into cryo sleep. It’s only a second of hesitation but Reyes must sense it, his hands tangling in Scott’s hair once again as if to pull him up.

“Ryder, you don’t have to do this.”

It’s all the encouragement Scott needs and he leans forward and swirls his tongue over the head one more time before taking as much of the other man into his mouth as he can. Above him Reyes curses, hands tightening in Scott’s hair as he begins to set up a rhythm. He lets one hand encircling the base, using the saliva and precome leaking sloppily from the corners of his mouth to ease the way as he makes a tight circle. There’s a pleasant ache starting up in his jaw but Scott ignores it, hollowing his cheeks and flicking the head with his tongue before carefully teasing the slit with it. He can feel the tension coiling in Reyes’s hips as he struggles not to thrust, the sounds of Scott’s ministrations swallowed up as Reyes’s babbles and begs for release, for mercy, Scott’s name on the air again and again. It’s not too much longer before the other man stiffens, his voice choking out a warning Scott ignores as he swallows and Reyes comes down his throat. Carefully, he works the other man through it, tongue licking up all the mess until Reyes is staring down at him drowsy and content and looking more debauched than Scott had thought possible.

“Come here.” The request is so quiet that Scott almost misses it but it wouldn’t matter because before he has a chance to move, Reyes’s hands are gently pulling him up and towards him so that he can kiss the taste of himself out of Scott’s mouth.

 

_2 months ago_

In the wake of the Archon’s defeat Kadara port seems to be bustling at twice its normal speed. Traders from the Initiative colony are out in force as are the Angara, who’ve opened up several stalls of their own alongside the Exiles. The mood is celebratory and even though he and his crew know that defeating the Archon is a far cry from defeating the Kett he’s more than happy to encourage them to share in the celebratory mood.

“Well,” Vetra sidles up to him where he stands on the gallery staring down at the crowds. “I guess maybe your boyfriend hasn’t been done too bad a job in his role as the local shady puppet master and crime boss.”’

“Thanks. I'll be sure to tell him that.” Vetra just shrugs as if she’s indifferent but he’s grateful for the banter. Things with some of the crew had been tense after news of him and Reyes had gotten around. Turns out everyone had thought he was making a mistake and everyone had an opinion about it. A few of them had come around to the idea that it was Scott’s life and as long as he was happy they were happy for him, but that only extended so far and he knew that even after Reyes’s support on Meridian they were still expecting the other shoe to drop. There was also a few of them, one of them if he was honest, who he knew would never come around. Sometimes he wondered if they shouldn’t have tried to be a little more discreet, although how he thought he’d manage to keep it a secret after what they did in that cave in Kadara with Peebee, Vetra, and half the Collective standing just outside he hadn’t figured out yet. But then, he hadn’t really bothered to try and hide it either.  

“Mmm, you can say that again.” Peebee sighed happily as she bit into some skewers of heavily spiced yellow meat purchased from one of the stalls. Ryder thought he recognized the smell of saffron. “The food situation has vastly improved, Ryder. Kind of like your sense of humor and general stick up your ass attitude.”

“I resent that.” He tries for serious but from the smirk Peebee shoots him she can probably sense that he’s laughing on the inside. She’s right that this thing with Reyes had helped him relax from the strict military upbringing his dad had drilled into him.   _It’s nice_ , he thought, _having someone other than Sara bother to see and understand him._

“Whatever, Ryder.” Peebee had devoured her food and was licking the last bits of sauce off her fingers as she looked around for another vendor. “We already know you love us so you’re not fooling anyone with that Mr. Grumpy—“ Peebee stopped mid-sentence to let out a high-pitched squeal, hands grabbing wildly in Vetra’s general direction. “Are those Remnant shaped cookies?!”

“Here we go again.” Vetra let out a good-natured grumble as Peebee started tugging her along and talking a mile a minute about sugar and rationing and whether Poc would appreciate one or not. “See you in a few hours, Ryder.”

Scott waved half-heartedly in their direction. Peebee had already cornered the Angaran selling the cookie like treats and had her omnitool out scanning them while gesticulating wildly with the other hand. Not too far off he sees Cora and Liam talking to a young Turian with a star-struck look on his face. He manages a small smile and nod in their direction but doesn't go over to join them. Out of all of his crew, Liam had been the most vocal about his dislike for Reyes and whenever the subject came up he became a little more distant. It wasn't enough of a problem that they needed an intervention and Ryder didn't want to exacerbate it by rubbing his appointment with Reyes in the other man's face. Especially because Liam wasn't exactly wrong about Reyes. He was a criminal and pursuing a relationship with him wasn't exactly the smartest thing Scott had ever done. But it also wasn't any of Liam's business.

Pushing thoughts of Liam and their disagreement from his mind, Ryder began winding his way through the crowd toward the slums and Tartarus. The message he'd received from Reyes had been brief and perfunctory, an invitation to talk about a rumor that he'd come across and thought might be worth checking out. Knowing Reyes that meant there definitely was something hinky going on that he probably needed to shutdown as soon as possible.

Despite the size of the crowds he arrived at the bar fairly quickly and he took advantage of his early arrival to pause for a moment outside the door. It had been three months since he and Reyes last saw each other. Steady stream of flirtatious and borderline inappropriate messages aside, he wasn't exactly sure where he stood with Reyes. Neither one of them had made much of an effort to meet up again after the Landing Day celebration on Meridian. He'd been too busy with the colony and Reyes had claimed to be split between his duties in Kadara and some other vague interests Scott hadn't wanted to pry into too closely. And now, now he was nervous in a way he doesn't remember being since he was twenty-two years old and still learning to string two words together when talking to whatever guy had caught his eye. Quickly checking to make sure nobody was looking at him he angled himself so he could catch a glimpse of his reflection in the reflective metal side of the building.

His mother's dark eyes stared back at him. Despite the relatively light schedule of the last few months he still looked tired. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair and wondered absent-mindedly if he should have shaved. He reasoned that he'd been sporting the same bit of stubble when he met Reyes the first time and the other man hadn't been put off. Just like he hadn't minded the small set of scars that stood out a shade too light against the left side of his face. At times like these he was grateful that he'd gotten his mother's dark complexion, it helped hide a multitude of sins. Despite all that, he didn’t think he looked half bad. The deep blue of his shirt stood out nicely against the brown of his skin. He’d opted to leave his leather jacket behind on the Tempest and it was clear to anyone looking that he worked out. Against his shirt, the metal of his mother’s wedding rings glinted in the fluorescent light of the club. He let his hands rest for a moment on the set of bands. Sara had their fathers on a similar chain and he found that being able to carry them around like this gave acted as a sort of strength. Carefully, he tucked the necklace beneath his shirt. He gave himself one final look before taking a deep breath and entering the club.

The message indicated that Reyes had booked his usual room in the back of his club and Scott made his way over, not bothering to announce himself before the doors slid open. Reyes he had expected, the purple-haired girl half draped over him and giggling he had not. Scott ignored the feeling of his heart hitting his boots and nodded carefully in Reyes's direction, ignoring his overly effusive greeting. _There had better be a damn good explanation for this._ The girl gave him a calculating look before slowly unwinding herself from his boyfriend and standing and crossing the room to meet him.

She walked with the confidence of someone who had survived the life of a merc for far longer than expected and against some pretty big odds. Up close he could see that she was Asian and he guessed that she was of an age with him and Reyes. At most a couple years younger. Despite the whimsical coloring of her hair her green eyes were sharp and the set of her mouth serious and calculating. There was a brief moment when she seemed to be deciding something, what Scott didn't know and didn't particularly care, before she stuck out her hand and smiled in a manner that managed to show off all of her teeth. “Mandy, second in command to the Charlatan.”

“Ryder.” He met her eyes without flinching. “Pathfinder.”

One carefully manicured eyebrow went up and Scott had the distinct feeling that she was laughing at him despite the serious set of her face. “Oh, I know who you are.” She turned back to Reyes and Scott got the impression that an entire conversation was happening between them before she turned back and said, “You're cuter than I expected. And a lot less deadly looking.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” Scott resisted the urge to fidget nervously with his civvies. Next time he was definitely opting for the armor.

“Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. Yet.” She flashed him another shark tooth grin before moving toward the door. “I'll leave you two boys to get reacquainted then. Some of us have work to do.”

The door closed behind her with a hiss.

“So.” Scott was pretty happy with how steady his voice sounded. “You had something that required the Pathfinder’s attention.”

“I have several things which could benefit from your attention.” Reyes's voice was teasing and Scott resisted the urge to walk out and tell him to just forward the information to his omnitool. _A rational explanation_ , he reminded himself. _You’ll never get it if you storm out of here like a lovesick teenager._

“Seems to me like you've got that covered.”

“You mean Mandy?” Reyes shrugged impassively. “I've worked with her for a decade, Ryder. Well before the Initiative and Andromeda. Mandy is family. Trust me, I may be impulsive and have a bit of a reputation for hedonism but not so much that I'd jeopardize that kind of business relationship with some meaningless stress relief. Besides,” Reyes hesitated, before standing and walking over to Scott, “I'm pretty sure my boyfriend wouldn't exactly like it.”

“Is that still what we are?” It would be easy, Scott knows, to just pretend like he hadn't caught that glimpse of them on the couch but he wanted things clear between them. He didn't enjoy feeling wrong-footed when it came to the relationship between them.

“Yes.” While Scott had been thinking Reyes had stepped into his personal space. His face had gone soft and unguarded the way it sometimes did when it was just the two of them or he thought no one was looking. It was a look that was just for Scott, a secret the two of them shared. It left Reyes vulnerable in a way that Scott understood was a risk for the other man. In this they were very similar, there were very few people he let see him unguarded. Reyes was one of them. Trust for trust, trust that the other wouldn’t take what they knew about the men behind the masks and leave pieces of them bleeding across the galaxy.  

Sighing, Scott closed the remaining distance between them and drew him in for a hug. He let his face settle against Reyes’s neck and breathed him in deeply. “I missed you too.”

Whatever tension was left in Reyes melted away and he tightened his grip on Scott for a moment before pulling back. Slowly, so that Scott had plenty of time to stop him if he wanted, he leaned in and brushed their lips together in a suggestion of a kiss.

Scott sighed again and parted his lips. Reyes kissed him slowly, mouth gentle as if he was afraid that Scott would disappear. Scott let himself be pulled under the spell Reyes was weaving, his skin lighting up where their bodies brushed against one another. He felt like the world was slowly spinning beneath his feet. No one had ever bothered to kiss Scott like this before, like he was something precious. Beneath his hand he could feel the erratic beat of Reyes's heart.

Slowly, almost apologetically, Reyes pulled back. “We do actually have business to discuss.”

Scott closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the other man's. His body felt overheated and he was reluctant to leave this moment and get back to being the Pathfinder. After three months apart with nothing but memories and teasing letters Scott wanted. His desire coiled tight around his limbs and lit him up inside so brightly that he could barely think. This close to Reyes he was tempted to say fuck it to whatever mess was about to fall in his lap and put an end to the tiny moment of peace he had found. Let somebody else play the hero. All Scott wanted was to drag him down onto that stupid couch and taste Reyes's mouth again. He wanted to lie there for hours and relearn what three months had forgotten.

When he opened his eyes, Reyes was looking back at him with the exact same want reflected back. It made it easier somehow, to let the moment go knowing he wasn’t the only one who wanted to keep it. Scott allowed himself one last chaste press of the lips before stepping back and willing his body back under control.

“Okay,” he said before taking a deep breath and slipping back into his role as the Pathfinder. “What have you got for me?”

What he had was an invitation and a rumor. “News of the Archon's defeat and the discovery of Meridian have spread through every inhabited corner of the galaxy by now. It's not surprising that Advent wants a meeting.” Reyes paused, lost in thought as he fidgeted with the drinks he'd ordered sent in after they’d managed to calm down enough to get to work. When he finished he handed a tumbler of dark liquid to Scott, clinking their glasses together with a muffled cheers. They sipped at their drinks slowly and Scott let out a low hum of appreciation. From the corner of his eye he caught Reyes smiling at him.

“It's clear that you don't think all they want is a simple sit down.” Scott thought Reyes was more than likely right about that. A part of him would like to believe that peace and unity could be achieved as easily as overwhelming the Exiles with his successes, but that was a childish thought. The citizens of Advent that he'd met on Eos had been friendly enough, but he'd caught the undertones of violence in the way they handled themselves. No, these weren't peaceful men and whatever they wanted it was more than a conversation. “I agree. It seems innocent enough but something feels wrong.”

Reyes frowned. “There have been rumours.” He paused again and Scott resisted the urge to hurry him up. Whatever he wanted to say it was clear he wanted to be careful doing it. “I'm not even sure I should be telling you this. It sounds like something from a fairytale or a nightmare. But there have been rumors that the nation of Advent is ruled by a queen. An Asari known as Prom’thea. Supposedly, she is possessed of such beauty, grace, and wisdom that none who look upon her beauty can resist carrying out her will. Or at least, that's the party line.” Scott snorted out a short laugh.

“You're right, that does sound like a fairytale.” Scott wasn't sure what to make of it. Belief was a funny thing and stories like that were like getting a status report after so many games of telephone. He wasn't sure he put much stock into it but the people of Advent could generously be described as armed separatists and the fact that they'd managed to cultivate and disperse that kind of mythological devotion to their leader was disturbing to say the least. He would lay money on them arriving in Advent and finding a tyrannical despot rather than some benevolent queen. “Sounds almost like a cult.”

“Yes, well those have been known to crop up from time to time around here on the outskirts of civilization.”

“True.” Scott paused for a moment, logistics and parameters for this next mission running through his mind. “Still, something on this scale means I definitely ought to check it out. I'm sure the Council would agree.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that. Well then,” Reyes stood suddenly, fingers flying over his omnitool. “Good thing Mandy's here. She can handle things on Kadara while we're away.”

“What?” Scott was pretty sure he hadn't managed to recruit Reyes in the last couple of hours and he definitely hadn't invited him along now. “I don't remember seeing you on the Tempest's duty rosters.”

“Ouch, Ryder. If I'm not careful you're going to hurt my feelings.” Reyes's tone was teasing again but there was a note of uncertainty beneath it that Scott didn't like.

“You know I didn't mean it like that.”

“I know.” Reyes managed a smile that seemed genuine and turned back to his work. “It's irrelevant though either way. I'm going at the express invitation of Matriarch Prom'thea herself. Seems she has some business with the Charlatan.”

Scott stilled. “She wants to see you? Why? And wait, she knows you're the Charlatan?”

“Yes.” There's a wealth of feeling in that one word and none of it good. “The person responsible for passing along that information has been … dealt with and additional leaks are being plugged. You should be aware though, if she's aware of who I am then the odds are good that she knows the true nature of our relationship as well.”

“I wasn't aware we were a secret.” It's not exactly a lie but it's not the truth either. In fact, it’s almost eerily similar to Scott’s earlier thoughts. They'd never discussed it and in the whirlwind of their initial courtship discretion hadn't exactly been a priority. Especially not in a place like Kadara where the Initiative and all its rules and expectations seemed so far away.

Reyes shot him a look before replying carefully. “You're not, not really. Although perhaps it would have been wise if we'd acted with a little more restraint in the past. Ah well, young love.”

Scott’s heart gave one large thump at the phrase and he ignored it, forcing himself not to focus on what was probably just a throw away phrase. Maybe. “So you think she timed our invitations in an attempt to manipulate one of us. And you still want to waltz in and play her game?”

“But of course.” Reyes finished whatever he was doing and shut the omnitool down as he stalked back to where Scott had remained seated on the couch. “If she's half as powerful as the rumors make her out to be we were going to end up playing whether we wanted to or not.”

“I guess that's true.” Scott rested his hands on Reyes’s waist and pulled, tugging the other man down so that he straddled his lap. The pressure felt so good that he had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from crying out. “Please tell me we're done talking about business now.”

Reyes chuckled darkly and hooked his arms around Scott's neck. He gave an experimental roll of his hips and Scott watched entranced as his eyes darkened, a light flush beginning to peek out from beneath the collar of his shirt. “You know, we've never actually talked about this.”

“About what?” Reyes moved again, eyes locked on Scott as he bit back a moan, letting out a low breathy sigh instead.

“About what it could mean if word of us gets out. And it will get out, Scott.”

“What goes on in my bed is nobody else's business.”

Reyes smiled again. “Cute, but you know it doesn't really work away. People are going to start to question what it means that you've taken a known criminal into your bed. And not just once for a quick roll in the hay. That, they could excuse. But this,” he dipped down and caught Scott in a kiss that curled his toes and left him gripping Reyes as if he could pull him close enough that not even atoms could move between them, “If we do this for real then this isn't something they're going to be able to ignore. Not for long.”

“Well then,” Scott tugged until he finally managed to bring them flush against one another. “Guess we're going to have to work on some really good PR in the meantime.”

Reyes stilled. “You really mean that don't you?” Carefully he tilted Scott's face toward him. “You'd tarnish your shiny image for me. Why Ryder, careful or you just might get me thinking that I'm something special.”

Scott kissed him first this time, taking the chance to savor Reyes's reactions, the little hitch in his breath before he opened to him, the way he shivered when Scott teased his tongue. Everything else faded away until all he could feel was Reyes moving against him, all he could hear was the sounds the other man made, breathy little moans and gasps that left Scott straining, all he could taste was the remainder of the booze on his breath, the salt of his skin. Scott kissed him until he was half-desperate and drunk on it.

“How long,” Reyes pulled back to run his teeth lightly along the side of Scott's neck and this time Scott did moan at the tease, head falling back as Reyes sucked a kiss into the meat of his shoulder. “How long until you have to get back?”

“Two hours.” Reyes's hands drifted under Scott's shirt, palms splaying dangerously low before he pushed the material up and Scott was forced to forgo his grip so that the garment could be tossed over his head.

“Good,” Reyes let his fingers travel over one dusky nipple and then another and Scott's hands fisted in the material of the couch as his hips bucked upward in search of more friction. “That's just about enough time.”


End file.
